Stories, Old Ragged Verse, Letters to and from mountain cousins by Storyteller and Appalachian Humorist Stephen Hollen. Enjoy the humor and bittersweet memories of Eastern Kentucky and a place where the mist crawls down the mountainside ''like molasses on a cold plate''

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Storm tonight has me restless
Makes me want to go somewhere
Do something, but I don't know
Just don't know what I want,
What I need.

Seems like I might be satisfied
To sit on the porch of an old log cabin
Watchin' the rain
Listenin' to it hit the tin roof.
Maybe sip a cup of scalded coffee
Maybe sip a little glass
Of corn likker
Cold from the fridge
Drops of dew on the glass.

See an old sooner dog look
Out from a barn door
Wantin' to come up
Onto the porch
Wantin' human company
But too well mannered
To bring his sorry old wet hide
Up with civil folks.

Maybe I'd put on old work boots
Throw a slicker on
Put a wide brimmed hat
Top of my head
And walk the ridges,
Feel the rain gentle on me
Wander through the hills
Like a sodden ghost
Through the rain
Through the mist caught low
Lookin' for what might have been
Lookin' for what is
Hopin' for what will be.

Lookin deep into the valleys
Searchin' the hillside
Lookin' behind every tree
For that which was lost.
Maybe callin' out
Knowin' there won't be
Any answer
But callin' just the same.

Maybe I'll take an old Indian flute
Play a forlorn tune
Hauntin' as the memories
I carry like burdens tonight.
Maybe as I play
Top of the ridge
Standin' on the dirt an' clay
That claims my spirit
Shackles my heart to the hills
Spirits of my ancestors
Welsh, Irish, Scots
Will come down to dance a reel, or jig
Joined by those who have darker skin,
Red and brown
Powhatan, Choctaw, Cherokee
And mysterious Melungeon
To take their turn in the dance
Calling to me
"Come, join, dance
Dance the dance
Of the Appalachia's
Slow, eternal.
Dance with us,
Our son, our child"
But I play
I cannot stop
But perhaps I do.

And in the silence I hear
The tune eternal of hill and holler
Rock and rill
Blowin' down every dry branch
Whispered by the mighty oak
Taken up by bird and beast.
The song of home.
the song of home.

I am restless tonight
Maybe it is just the storm.
Maybe I hear an ancient call.

Copyrighted Materials

Notice: All original photographs, stories, poems and text on this blog site are copyright protected and solely owned by the author, Stephen Hollen. Please request permission before copying or reproducing any content by writing to Stephen at:mountainstories@yahoo.com

Stephen Hollen

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SCHEDULING

Why not try something different for your Sales Meeting, Conference or Annual Meeting? Invite Stephen to as your Featured or Keynote Speaker! His many years of experiences as a successful and award winning Salesman and Sales Manager have given him insights and inspiration for your business or organization.

Event Planners and Organizers, here is a winning idea! Invite Stephen to share his Tall Tales, Scary Stories, Old Ragged Verse or maybe even Doc Hollen's Traveling Medicine Show at your event, festival, school or organization.

Contact him at: mountainstories@yahoo.comOr give him a call: 937-371-4071

About Me

Stephen Hollen is an award winning storyteller, writer, poet and Appalachian
Humorist. He grew up in the hills of Appalachia where his family has
lived since the 1760s. He is considered by many to be one of the foremost
poetic and storytelling voices of Appalachia.

One of the achievements Stephen is proudest of is the Heritage Award
presented to him in 2005 at the Appalachian Festival in Cincinnati, Ohio.
He was chosen "Man of the Year" in 2007 and was elected to "Who's Who
in America" in 2000, 2001 and 2003. His poetry - known by him as
"ragged verse" has been selected to appear on a number of websites
and his poem remembering 9/11 traveled around the world and appeared in German
and Russian websites!

Stephen's storytelling blog - www.mountainstories.net
enjoys huge popularity and has a large following of readers. Thousands of
readers stop monthly to read the humorous stories, bittersweet memories and
wonderful word pictures written by this talented author and poet.

Perhaps you were introduced to Stephen Hollen at a festival, school or
community event as he told stories, performed his tongue in cheek Old Time
Medicine Show as Doc Hollen, made Appalachian brooms and walking sticks, played the harmonica
or dulcimer or just told a tale so tall it HAD to be true.

Wherever you crossed his path, there is no doubt that he loves Appalachia -
and Eastern Kentucky in particular. When he talks about his "hometown
of Beloved, Kentucky", characters like his Cousin Peanut, Uncle Billy
Gilbert or Birdie Sue Poovey, you will grin with recognition because you have
kin just like them. As he reads his ragged verse, his warm bass voice
slowly weaves a picture of lightening bugs dancin' at dusk, of mist creepin'
down a mountain like molasses on a cold plate... and you find yourself
entranced, smiling at the memories he weaves around his audience.

Stephen Hollen is an unsung ambassador for Eastern Kentucky. You can see
it in the twinkle of his eye, hear it in the richness of his voice as he asks
you to come along and go with him back home... to the hills.